


coming home someday

by lestered (lgbtrobed)



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Christmas Party, Closeted Character, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Friends to Lovers, Lawyer!Dan, M/M, Mutual Pining, also they never left manchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-24
Updated: 2019-12-24
Packaged: 2021-02-26 00:47:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,201
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21914689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lgbtrobed/pseuds/lestered
Summary: He tries not to let his inner panic betray him, since he knows he’s freaking out for all the wrong reasons. Lying to Dan’s coworkers? Doesn’t bother him that much. Pretending to be Dan’s loving, devoted, long-term boyfriend for an entire night? That’s a different story.
Relationships: Dan Howell/Phil Lester
Comments: 24
Kudos: 187
Collections: Phandom Fic Fests Holiday Exchange 2019





	coming home someday

**Author's Note:**

  * For [phantasticphun](https://archiveofourown.org/users/phantasticphun/gifts).



> for phantasticphun - tysm for the prompt and i hope you enjoy!

Serious business. Being a lawyer is very serious business. 

At one point, he’d really convinced himself that it would be a rewarding career. Now, staring blearily past his computer screen at the snow coming down in soft, fat clumps outside, he wonders how exactly he’d managed to do that, because he’d like to do it again. It might help drown out the dull ringing that echoes around his brain every time he steps into the office.

His eyes drift from the window down to the scratchy gray carpet, and he’d like nothing more than to fall asleep. He probably could, couldn’t he? No one pays him any mind. His eyes are just starting to droop when a pair of French-tipped acrylics snap loudly right in front of his nose. He jolts upright, his gaze sweeps up very quickly, passing over the black stilettos and nylons and the pencil skirt and the blouse and the diamond necklace.

He sighs. “Hey, Cindy.”

“I wish you’d just go see that doctor I told you about,” she says in lieu of a greeting, setting a nearly-overflowing mug of coffee on the edge of his desk. “He’ll write you an Ativan prescription, no questions.”

Dan has to give her a fond roll of his eyes, because she’s ridiculous, but she’s so _herself,_ which he can’t help but admire no matter how questionable her qualms and life choices. “I don’t need pills, thanks,” he fixes her with a short, deadpan stare before bending down to slurp up his first few sips of coffee to avoid spillage. “I need a sense of purpose.”

She twirls her pen between her fingers a couple times before giving him a light bop on the nose with it. “You’ve got a purpose, babe,” she coos. “You’re a great researcher. And those contracts you write up?” She fans herself exaggeratedly. “Whew. Let’s just say, the ladies _love_ a guy who knows how to insert a good subheading.”

Honestly, she’s only half-joking.

“Did you need something?” He asks, because he’s definitely not interested in hearing about exactly what the ladies love. Not this early in the morning. He takes another long sip of his coffee, the mug now safe enough to lift, and she shakes her head.

“No,” she tells him, “but you’ve got a delivery at reception.”

*

It’s a good thing that Dan makes it to reception when he does, because Katarina looks like she’s ready to eat Phil alive any second now. He’s pretty sure Phil feels the same way, seeing his face flush with relief when Dan arrives. 

Literally. Phil goes whiter than a sheet when he’s nervous; it’s nice to see what little color he has drain back into his cheeks. 

Katarina looks less than thrilled with his arrival.

“Oh. Dan, you’re here,” she says flatly, giving him a cursory glance before turning her undivided attention back to Phil. “Phil said you forgot your phone charger at home, so he thought he’d bring it to you on his way to work. Isn’t that lovely of him?”

Phil gives her a polite smile in return.

“Yep. Phil’s just a lovely person,” Dan sighs, grabbing his elbow and ushering him off to the side, out of earshot. 

“Mate, you need to start just letting me suffer when I leave stuff at home,” he holds his hand out regardless, and Phil digs in his pocket for a moment before pulling the charger out and handing it over. 

“Katarina’s fine,” Phil shrugs. “She’s just nice.”

“That’s because she’s in love with you.”

Phil fixes him with a skeptical look. Dan rolls his eyes.

“Fine, she’s not. But she definitely wants to shag you.”

“Well, it’s not like you need to worry about her succeeding,” Phil glances back at the reception desk, hesitantly returning the little wave Katarina gives him with the hand that’s not currently holding a phone to her ear. “You could just like… tell her, you know. If you want.”

That makes him pause for a moment, his eyes briefly searching over Phil’s features. His eyes, which look a little brighter, his forehead, a little less creased, his mouth, resting in that calm, easy smile that seems to have been ever-present lately. 

Being out suits Phil. Like, _really_ suits him. 

“You wouldn’t care?” He asks, and he sees a momentary flash of concern in Phil’s eyes. 

“I mean,” Phil shrugs, slipping his hands into his jacket pockets again. He even tenses a bit, just for a second. “If you don’t think she’d mind. Like… if you think she’d be cool with it.”

Dan immediately feels guilty for worrying him. “She would,” he says quickly, and as assuredly as he can. “I just… I don’t know. I’m just used to being quiet about it.”

He sees Phil visibly relax again. “Well, it’s up to you. You can let her keep massaging my ego if you like, I won’t complain.” His eyes crinkle in silent amusement, knowing that Dan’s reaction will be to tell him to fuck off. And he’s about to do just that when Phil’s phone vibrates in his pocket. 

He’s just barely pulled it out and glanced at the screen before he’s rolling his head back with a groan. Dan has to suppress a smirk. 

“Trevor sleep in again?” He asks when Phil slips his phone back into his jacket pocket.

Phil sighs. “Yep. Which means I need to get to the office like, now if I’m gonna cover for him.”

Dan raises an eyebrow. 

“This is the last time I’m doing this for him. I swear,” Phil grumbles, and Dan knows he doesn’t mean it whatsoever. Phil couldn’t stand letting someone down like that, even if they brought it on their own self. 

So Dan waves him off as he strides hurriedly away.

* * *

Phil’s on his second cup of coffee already when Trevor meanders his way into the office, plopping down in his seat with a huff.

Phil peers around his computer screen at him.

“Hey, did Jill ask where I was?” Trevor asks him in a rushed whisper, shrugging out of his jacket and shaking the snow out of his hair. 

“Yeah, she came by,” he leans back in his chair. “I told her you had diarrhea and you weren’t sure if you’d even make it in today.”

He stifles a laugh around his mug when Trevor nearly drops the laptop that he’s struggling to get out of his bag, lifting his head to gawk at him. 

“Please tell me you’re joking.”

“I’m running out of excuses for you,” Phil sighs on a more serious note, setting his mug down next to his keyboard and leaning forward on his elbows. “It’s only so long before I just tell her straight out that you’re late because you’re running all the way from her brother’s apartment on the other side of the city. Please start getting in on time.”

He watches Trevor as he huffs out a sigh, dropping his head into his hands. “I know,” he sounds defeated and Phil softens a bit. He lifts his head and does a careful scan of the room and scoots forward in his chair. Phil does a quick glance around the room as well, just in case. 

“I can’t force him to come out,” he says in a low whisper, powering on his laptop as he does. “No matter how badly I want him to. And I can’t…”

He trails off, staring blankly at his laptop screen. Phil waits a moment before reaching across their shared desk and gently nudging it closed, until Trevor finally looks back at him. 

“I can’t break up with him just because he’s not ready yet,” He finishes. He looks tired. “I think I love him.”

Well, shit. 

“Oh,” he says quietly, for lack of a better response. Trevor nods, and they’re both quiet. 

“Want me to get you a coffee?” Phil asks after another uncomfortable minute. He’s relieved when Trevor gives him a shrug and a quiet ‘sure,’ and tries to give him a reassuring smile as he stands up and heads towards the kitchen.

*

He gets home before Dan, which is good. Friday nights mean Dominos and Mario Kart and he could use a few practice rounds. He hasn’t beaten Dan in ages. 

He doesn’t get to practice, though. He’s just stood in the kitchen, contemplating if an entire bag of popcorn is too much before dinner, when Dan gets home. 

“Hey,” Dan calls, and Phil hears the sound of him dropping his bag and shedding his jacket and kicking off his shoes as he wanders towards the kitchen. Phil’s half-expecting a side-eye when Dan sees him standing in front of the microwave tentatively clutching the popcorn box, but he doesn’t get one. Instead, Dan strolls up beside him, plucks a packet out of the box and throws it in the microwave. Phil glances over at him. He’s already loosened his tie and his wrinkled button-up is untucked. He looks tired.

“Alright?” Phil asks him as the first few kernels get to popping. “I thought you were staying late tonight.”

“Me too,” Dan loosens his tie completely then and undoes his first couple buttons. “Then Cindy told us we ought to go home early before the snow got too bad. But I’m pretty sure she just doesn’t trust the office to run without her while she and Roger go to that couple’s therapy we’re not supposed to know about.”

Phil sighs. Dan’s boss’s marital problems are old news to him. Dan says that if he has to suffer through Cindy talking his ear off about it every day, then Phil has to suffer with him. 

“Still don’t understand why they don’t just get divorced,” he says instead of complaining.

Dan grabs the bag of popcorn straight out of the microwave when it beeps and whisks it off to the living room, much to Phil’s chagrin. 

“They have kids,” he says as they both plop down on the couch. “She thinks they should stay together for them and I can’t bring myself to tell her that shit doesn’t work. Look at my fucking parents.”

Phil frowns but keeps his mouth shut. It’s not his place to say anything about that and honestly, he’s usually grateful. Grateful that his parents are so in love that he doesn’t have any input to give on broken relationships. It’s worth it to just let Dan talk, anyway. Sometimes he just needs to say things.

“Anyway, speaking of romantically unstable coworkers,” Dan says, not bothering to move when Phil steals the popcorn bag off of him, “Did you tell Trevor to get his shit together?”

Phil’s quiet for a moment, buying time by chewing slowly on a mouthful of popcorn.

“Kind of,” he mumbles after swallowing it down. “The situation’s, um… a little more complicated than I thought.”

“He fell in love again?” Dan asks, though it’s more like a statement. He knows well enough.

Phil sighs and sinks a little further into the couch. “Yeah. He never learns.”

* * *

Phil’s asleep. At least he looks asleep, Dan thinks. He could just be pretending because he’s tired of getting his ass kicked, and Dan had threatened him with another round of Mario Kart after a quick Friends break. He really wouldn’t put it past him.

He knows it’s definitely a ruse when he sees Phil’s eye crack open just the tiniest bit, glancing in Dan’s direction and then immediately squeezing shut. Dan nudges him with the foot resting nearest to Phil’s leg from where he’s spread out across the couch. Phil groans. 

“I don’t wanna play Mario Kart again,” Phil groans, opening his eyes fully and shifting his position so that he’s facing Dan fully. “You’ve got enough of an ego boost for tonight.”

Dan frowns with genuine disappointment. 

“Oi, don’t give me that look,” Phil warns. “The sad, beggy eyes haven’t worked on me since 2010.”

He crosses his arms and gives himself a moment to think of a way to sweeten the deal, while Phil grabs both of their wine glasses off of the table and shuffles into the kitchen. Then he gets an idea.

“I’ll call off the no-attack pact!” He shouts into the kitchen. He hears relative silence, then the clink of their glasses as Phil sets them down on the counter.

“Serious?” Phil calls back. The apprehension in his voice is clear, but he knows Phil well enough to sense the intrigue.

“Sure,” he bites down a smirk while straightening up, crossing his legs underneath him and reaching for his controller. “Blue-shell me all you want. But remember it goes both ways.”

Phil appears in the doorway then, still with their wine glasses, filled nearly to the brim this time. Dan takes his carefully while Phil joins him on the couch again and downs about half of it right away, holding Phil’s gaze with a challenging stare.

He silently cheers when Phil does the same before snatching his controller up. 

*

His head throbs dully as he drifts into consciousness the next morning, so much that he holds off on opening his eyes under the presumption that it’ll only intensify the pain. The only thing that does get him to crack them open, finally, is the realization that his head is resting on something warm and squishy and he’s not sure _what_ exactly it is.

He swallows down a groan as he lifts his head. The first thing he sees as he blinks the sleep out of his eyes is his controller laying on the couch. The second thing he sees is the slow rise and fall of Phil’s stomach under his soft red t-shirt, the very thing he seems to have woken up on. 

He considers getting up and giving Phil a little more breathing room, but just the thought of lifting his head any further makes him feel nauseous, so he drops his head back onto Phil’s stomach. A little too heavily, apparently, as Phil grunts out a small _oomph_ sound and lands his hand on top of Dan’s head. 

“I hope you realize I would’ve puked all over you if you’d done that any harder,” he informs Dan. Dan doesn’t look up at him; he can tell by Phil’s voice that he’s barely even awake, eyes probably still closed and everything.

“Sorry.” 

He’s not sorry, but it’s the right thing to say. It’s been a while since he’s fallen asleep on Phil like this. He doesn’t remember his belly being this comfortable. 

Phil’s hand moves a bit and it takes Dan a second to realize that Phil’s trying to shove him off. He whines in protest. 

“I need tablets and a shower before I _actually_ sick all over you,” Phil says when he’s finally successful in shifting out from underneath him, leaving Dan curled up pathetically by himself on the couch. 

He rolls over onto his back to see Phil standing over him, awkwardly stretching his limbs. He can see in his periphery the two empty bottles of rosé on their coffee table, and he can tell by Phil’s self-satisfied expression that he’d definitely beaten Dan more than once last night. Damn Phil, and his strangely impressive tolerance. 

He frowns and lets his eyes fall shut again as Phil shuffles off to the bathroom. 

* * *

Two tablets. _Or, well… an extra couldn’t possibly hurt,_ Phil thinks as he shakes another ibuprofen into the palm of his hand. He stares blankly down at them for a moment before swallowing them with a big gulp of water. 

The bathroom is full of steam already when he steps into the shower, feeling all of his muscles relax and the hot water essentially washing away all of the pain in his head, at least temporarily. It’s nice. Just like last night had been nice, albeit in a very different way. 

He doesn’t remember the last time he and Dan got proper drunk together. They’re always so busy now, with stupid work and stupid adult responsibilities, even moreso now that Dan’s started his training contract. 

_Can you really imagine me as a lawyer? I don’t think so._

Phil shakes the memory from his head, of a young, baby-faced Dan speaking to his vlog camera in India. Giving up youtube for a “real-life job” had been Dan’s decision. Well, both of their decisions. But at least Phil enjoys editing. Dan’s never been passionate or excited or even mildly happy about law, not even when he was a student. But that’s not really Phil’s place to butt in. Dan’s an adult.

They’re both adults. 

They used to be so young, he thinks as he narrowly avoids getting shampoo in his eyes. Everything used to feel so different in so many ways. But again, that’s in the past, and he decidedly avoids the thought of how nice it had felt to wake up with Dan’s head pillowed onto him like they used to on hazy, cozy mornings in that blue-and-green bed back in Rawtenstall. 

_Back up,_ he tells himself. _Rewind._ If he ever had a chance with Dan, he missed it, and thinking of all those whispery skype calls and snuggly nights and giggly youtube videos while he’s in the middle of a hot shower really, _really_ isn’t going to do him any good.

He cranks the shower handle clockwise until there’s cold water biting at his skin instead. 

* * *

“Mum texted again this morning. She wants to know if you’re sure about not coming up for Christmas.”

Dan sighs and looks down into the sink full of dirty dishes for a moment before swinging his gaze over to where Phil’s leaning against their counter, dressed only in his pants and a t-shirt, with his hair still wet and messy and glasses perched on his nose. He watches Phil take a sip from the mug he’s clutching in both hands, keeping his eyes on Dan the entire time he does. 

“Yeah, I’m sure,” Dan nods, turning back to the sink and picking up a sponge and a dirty cereal bowl. “My nan would kill me if I missed Christmas dinner. Besides, doesn’t Kath want to spend the holiday doting on her beloved, newly gay son?” 

“Newly gay to _her,”_ Phil supplies. “It’s kind of old news to me, you know.”

Dan finishes rinsing the bowl out and turns it upside down in their dish rack. He tries to chuckle. It’s not terribly convincing. 

“Sorry,” Phil says after an uncomfortable moment of silence. Dan shakes his head and turns around. 

“For what? You’ve got nothing to be sorry for,” Dan reminds him. “I broke the pact, not you.”

Phil sighs. “I know, but that doesn’t matter. My family took it really well, but I get why you weren’t ready to tell yours yet.”

He thinks of arriving home last weekend from their respective family visits. Shuffling in with his tail between his legs, having to tell Phil he couldn’t do it. Couldn’t come out like they’d agreed they would. He can’t keep moping around about it; Phil’s been so happy ever since.

He doesn’t even bother trying to avoid eye contact when Phil steps in closer. He just looks at him tiredly. “You’ll do it when you’re ready,” Phil says quietly. “I’m not let down.” 

Dan nods. “I know.”

He’s been ready for a while now, he thinks. He just also happens to be really fucking scared. 

* * *

Phil thinks it’s a good thing, at first, when he walks into the office on Monday to find Trevor already sat at their desk. Slightly less good, he realizes, when he takes his seat across and sees his eyes tired and red-rimmed. He speaks to him gently and buys him a muffin from the downstairs cafe and doesn’t pry.

* * *

Dan’s beginning to sense a pattern with himself as he stares emptily out the window by his desk on Monday morning. The pattern, he thinks, is that he regrets all of his career decisions. Is that a pattern? Maybe more like a continual, ongoing shitshow of which he is both the director and the star.

He doesn’t hear Katarina come up behind him, and therefore almost spills coffee all the way down the front of his shirt when she speaks. 

“Alright then, Dan,” she’s holding a yellow legal pad and tapping a pen idly against her cheek as she stands next to his desk, scanning over whatever she’s written down. “It looks like enough people have signed up to bring appetizers and entrees, so… Can I put you down for a dessert?”

She looks up at him expectantly, and he all he can do is blink a couple times in return. “What?”

“Everyone’s supposed to bring something to the Christmas party, it’s required.” She lowers her voice. “Desserts are the easiest. You can just buy something from Asda and no one’ll care as long as you bring it in on your own platter.”

He still has no clue what’s going on. “Uh… I’m sorry?”

Katarina’s expression briefly changes to one of impatience, before her eyes light up and she sighs in realization. “Oh, right, you haven’t been here for Christmas before.”

He has a bad feeling about whatever’s coming next.

“You’ve _got_ to come to the office party Saturday. We go all out. And it’s like, all but mandatory.”

Shit.

“Absolutely fucking not,” Dan says firmly. “I don’t do parties, especially not _office_ parties.”

He’s glad he’s not holding his coffee mug anymore when he hears Cindy’s voice come up from the other side of him, seemingly out of nowhere. “You do now,” she says matter-of-factly. “You’ve been here, what, four months? And I haven’t seen you loosen up _once._ I’m putting extra rum in the punch for you unless you’ve got a damn good excuse.”

They’re both looking at him expectantly now, standing in front of his desk, where he’s still sat down. He feels very small of a sudden. 

What he says next probably takes him more by surprise than anyone else.

“I’ve got a date.”

He’s not offended when they both look absolutely dumbfounded, if only because he’s busy trying to figure out where the fuck that excuse came from in the recesses of his brain.

“You have a girlfriend?” Katarina looks skeptical. Cindy, on the other hand, looks suddenly thrilled. 

“A girlfriend? Wonderful!” She grins and pinches his cheek, the way she likes to do. “Of course, bring her as a plus-one! I’d love to meet her.”

Katarina nods. “ _We_ would, I think,” she agrees. From the flat tone of her voice, Dan has a feeling that she’s not exactly convinced. Of course she’s not. Since when does he come off as the having-a-girlfriend type? He’s pretty sure that as far as his coworkers are concerned, he lives alone in a dark, empty cave and watches paint dry in his free time. And he really doesn’t mind that.

“No, I, um…” He clears his throat, cheeks heating up as he repeatedly kicks himself for such a dumb excuse. “I don’t have a girlfriend.”

Cindy frowns. “So, then…”

He can tell she’s trying to make sense of his lie, because he’s pretty sure that he seems even less like the casual dating type. He feels the back of his neck start to sweat at the prospect of being caught in a lie. 

What he says next confuses him even more than his original excuse.

“I have a boyfriend.”

The silence between them as they both examine his expression is absolutely deafening. 

He tries not to think about how he’s just come out to his coworkers before his mum or grandma. He has enough to freak out over already.

“Really?” Cindy tilts her head to the side. Katarina does too, perhaps unknowingly. A boyfriend. Yes, he convinces himself, that’s a better excuse. Not mentioning a boyfriend would make much more sense, right? He’s almost starting to feel calm again when she breaks into yet another excited smile. 

“Oh, Dan, that’s fantastic! What’s his name?”

*

Katarina, for her part, takes the whole thing extremely well. 

“I should have known, honestly.” She’s sat on his desk next to his keyboard, kicking her legs idly and still twirling her pen around in her fingers. “I mean, I can’t believe I never put it together. The way he’s always bringing you lunch and stuff that you forgot at home? That you’ve lived together… what did you say? Five years? Both 'single' the whole time? God.”

He sighs at the same time as her, though for a much different reason. He slumps down in his chair a little when she turns her full attention to him. “I’ve gotta tell you, you’re _so_ lucky. He’s adorable. You know that, though, I mean… the way you look at him? And the way he looks at you. Seriously. I should have known. _Seriously.”_

He tunes her out and focuses the rest of his energy on pretending that this isn’t happening.

* * *

“You did _what?”_

Dan, to his credit, looks extremely sheepish as he holds out what Phil can only assume is a Marks and Spencer’s apology mince pie. He takes it wordlessly while Dan lets out a huff and plops down next to him on the couch.

“I know, I’m sorry,” He groans, rubbing his hands down over his face and then raking his fingers back through his hair. “I panicked, okay? You know how shit I am with lying.”

Phil nods. “Yeah, Dan, I do, because I’m even more shit at it than you are. How could you think this was a good idea?”

He tries not to let his inner panic betray him, since he knows he’s freaking out for all the wrong reasons. Lying to Dan’s coworkers? Doesn’t bother him that much. Pretending to be Dan’s loving, devoted, long-term boyfriend for an entire night? That’s a different story. 

“I’m sorry,” Dan repeats. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

Phil swallows hard watching him shove his sleeves up to his elbows and tug at the tie around his neck to loosen it. He keeps his expression schooled when Dan turns to look at him, his eyes big and brown and pleading. 

“I’ll make it up to you,” Dan promises. “I swear. I just can’t get caught lying to my boss, I’ve been fired enough times in my life already. Please. Please, please.”

Phil doesn’t bother with his line about how Dan’s puppy eyes haven’t worked on him in years, because he knows it’s not really true. Especially not right now.

* * *

The week is agonizingly slow. Like, even moreso than usual, which Dan didn’t think was at all possible. But every day he sits at his desk, watching the snow accumulate outside and the Christmas decorations slowly beginning to adorn the office more and more while time trickles by like molasses. Of course, the one time he actually wants to get something over with, the entire universe slows itself down to a snail’s pace.

He’s not sure if it’s better or worse that Phil’s not around much to talk about it with. Busy helping Trevor gather the pieces of his poor, post-breakup shattered heart. Dan hardly knows the guy, but he’s got sympathy for him anyway. It’s quite a daunting thing, he imagines, starting a relationship with a closeted man. 

That’s why Dan had spared Phil the trouble of it.

He doesn’t think about it anymore, for his own sanity. Because he can’t stand the ache in his chest every time he thinks back to the very beginning, the flirting and the chemistry and all those little glints of promise, if he’d just had the courage. Or Phil. If Phil had… well, no. Putting it all on Phil wasn’t fair, mistaking his excessive niceness for attraction, wishing and waiting and hoping for him to make a move when Dan wouldn’t have even known what to do with himself if he did.

Yeah, going back in time might be nice for a lot of reasons. But moping about it now won't do him any good.

*

“Red or green?” Phil asks, standing in the doorway of Dan’s bedroom on Saturday evening and holding up two sweaters, identical save for the colors. Dan sits up just enough to see Phil’s full body and then shrugs. 

“Green, maybe?” He suggests. “Looks better with your eyes.”

If Phil thinks that’s a strange comment, he doesn’t do anything to indicate it, just nods and begins to turn away, before Dan has a realization and sits up fully. 

“Wait, no. I’m wearing a red shirt, if you wear green it’ll seem like we coordinated. We’ll look so lame.”

Phil turns back around, biting his lip contemplatively. 

“Okay…” he says, slowly. “But if I wear the red, won’t it look like we tried to match?”

Dan groans and flops down again. “God, which is worse?”

He hears Phil laugh, followed by a creak of springs that jostles him a bit when Phil sits down on the edge of his bed. 

“I don’t know, you’re the one who decided we’re a couple. You decide which cringe-couple thing we do.”

The words _we’re a couple_ echo around Dan’s head the entire time he’s getting dressed.

* * *

Phil’s not surprised when Katarina is the first to greet them when they walk in, although he _is_ overwhelmed when she throws herself at him for a hug, doing her best to shout her greeting over the Christmas music that’s playing just a little too loudly. He gives her a smile and straightens his shirt out while she gives Dan a slightly-less-enthusiastic embrace, before saying something about more champagne and running off, though he doubts that’s the last he’ll see of her tonight.

“You weren’t exaggerating,” Phil says, stepping closer to Dan’s side and surveying the room. There’s garland and tinsel and garishly decorated trees and lights and it’s absolutely packed with people and food and, he can’t help but notice, alcohol.

He also can’t help but notice the various sprigs of mistletoe hung up all over, some of which have already drawn in a few of the bolder couples. Bolder and, thinks bitterly, straight. And then he shakes his head. As if he’d have the balls to kiss anyone in the middle of a party even if he were straight. As if he’d even _have_ anyone to kiss. He’s not Dan’s real boyfriend.

Dan nods. “I guess they really do go all out,” he says, glancing around and awkwardly setting down the tray of store-bought cookies that they’d brought out of obligation. Although, looking at the rest of the spread, Phil’s not so sure they would've been missed. 

“Dan!” He hears an excited, high pitched call from across the room and turns to see a gorgeous, impeccably dressed woman sporting a Santa hat and a liquor-induced glow hurrying towards them. _Cindy,_ he assumes. It’s nice to put a face to the name. He bites back a grin when she throws her arms around Dan, forcing a small _oomph_ out of his lungs. 

“So glad you could make it, love.” She draws back, patting his cheeks a couple of times before turning to Phil. 

“And you!” Cindy turns to him and pulls him into a nearly bone-crushing embrace. She’s deceptively strong, but he doesn’t let any discomfort show while he hugs her back. 

“So nice to _properly_ meet you,” she sighs, before reaching out to take both of their hands. “Come on, now. I’m assuming you two have a lot to catch me up on.”

* * *

It’s pure dumb luck that the only person qualified - and well, the only person available at all - to play Dan’s boyfriend also happens to be a semi-professional mummy’s boy, because Cindy adores Phil in a matter of minutes. 

“Video editing, hm?” She rests her chin in her hands. “Interesting. You’re one of those arty types then? Dan’s talked about how creative you are.”

Dan would blush and protest if he wasn’t already flushed and on his second cup of rum punch. Very strong rum punch, per Cindy’s guarantee. Still, he rolls his eyes when Phil glances over at him with a small smirk. 

...Yeah, maybe he does speak of Phil a little too fondly at work, but he can’t help it. It’s not as if he has many other people in his life to speak about.

Phil’s response is something humble and charming that Dan doesn’t listen to very carefully, until Phil’s arm comes to rest around the back of his chair. “And that’s how we met, actually.”

He swallows down the last mouthful of punch with a great deal of difficulty.

“Really?” Cindy leans forward on her elbows. “Video editing is how you met?”

“Kind of,” Phil explains. “Back in the day, Dan and I both used to make videos on the internet for fun. Which I promise, isn’t as dodgy as it sounds.”

Dan sits up straighter while Cindy chuckles. “So, Dan saw some of my videos and liked them, and asked if I could give him some editing tips.”

It’s not until Phil turns to face him, though, that Dan’s face actually grows unbearably hot. “Right, babe?”

All he can do is nod and excuse himself for another drink.

*

By the time Katarina finds him, he’s already finished his third cup of punch and is onto his fourth, standing next to the drinks table for convenience’s sake. She strides over, having seemingly sobered up a bit since her initial greeting and smiles as she grabs a bottle of water from the ice bucket on the table.

“Hey, just so you know, I think it’s really great that you brought Phil here,” she says. “I’m sure you were probably nervous.”

For Katarina, that’s strangely perceptive. He nods and takes one more sip of his punch before setting it down on the table and wrapping his arms around himself. 

“Yeah,” he sighs, glancing over at their table where Cindy is seemingly still delighted with whatever stories Phil’s been regaling her with. “It’s kinda nerve-racking. You never know how people are gonna react, you know?”

It’s ironic. He’s telling her that as if _he_ knows. Which, he supposes he kind of does. He’s plenty experienced with how awful some people can be about it. But he hasn’t technically _told_ anyone. 

Besides Phil, anyway. 

“Well,” she shrugs, joining him in looking over at the table. “I’m glad you felt like you could tell us. Even if you kinda didn’t want to.”

He side-eyes her in amusement. “You picked up on that, huh?”

She crosses her arms and laughs a little bit to herself. “Yeah, I mean, you seemed pretty uncomfortable. But he so obviously loves you, which I’m happy about. Even if I’m a bit jealous that I don’t have a shot with him myself.”

Dan raises an eyebrow at the words _so obviously._ But he forces himself not to wonder what the hell that’s supposed to mean.

* * *

Cindy’s a lovely person, but Phil comes to understand very quickly why Dan’s so exhausted coming home from work every night. She’s lovely, but she’s a _lot._

“Anyway,” she swirls a bit of red wine around in her glass and tips it towards him a bit before taking a long drink. “I think it’s lovely that Dan’s got someone like you. He doesn’t share much with us, you know. But he’s a wonderful boy. Terribly smart. And sweet, when he’s not being sullen. You both must feel quite lucky.”

Phil nods absently along, because he’s learned that that’s generally the best way to keep up with Cindy in a conversation. He nods and swirls his own wine and drinks it and lets it warm up his chest and belly and thinks yes, he does feel quite lucky. There’s a hard pit in his stomach when he sees Dan standing by the drinks table. No particular reason; Dan looks the same as he always does. Phil supposes this is just one of those times when he’s remembering, feeling the reverberations of the things he felt all those years ago. They don’t actually feel like reverberations as much as… well, the exact same damn thing. But surely it’s faded with time. It must have.

“So six years, hm?” Cindy says, bringing him out of his thoughts. “That’s a long time, with you two meeting so young and all.”

He laughs nervously and nods. “I suppose so, yeah.”

It would be quite an impressive relationship. If it were real.

“You must think he’s the one, then.”

He nearly chokes on his final sip of wine. It’s a close call, but he manages to swallow it down. He’s pretty sure his eyes are watery afterwards, though. 

And he doesn’t know why, but he nods again. Because what else can he do? Say no?

Cindy smiles. She’s got a very nice smile, even though this one’s a bit different than what he’s been seeing all night. It’s softer, with something indistinguishable behind her eyes. He thinks about her and her husband and their couple’s therapy and wonders if it’s sadness. Or nostalgia.

“Tell me about it?” She asks, her voice lacking the boisterousness from before. “I could use a bit of a happy story right about now.”

That pulls him out of his thoughts again and he tilts his head at her. “Sorry,” he shakes his head a bit. “Tell you about what?”

His heart stops for a second when she replies. 

“How did you know you loved him?”

* * *

How Katarina manages to get him out on the dance floor, he has absolutely no clue. It’s not bad, though. At least she’d chosen a slow song. Swaying slightly back and forth with his hands on her shoulders and hers on his, he can handle.

“So you had a proper crush on him?” He asks her. “I thought you just wanted to bang him.”

She rolls her eyes in response. “Daniel, _please._ This isn’t the first time I’ve fallen for a gay man, no need to make me relive my shame.”

Dan gives her a knowing look, and she sighs. 

“Okay, fine. To answer your question, no, I wouldn’t have called it a proper crush. He’s just awfully nice and funny and easy to talk to. And a bit weird, but in a good way. It’s not always easy to find those qualities in a guy. Especially not one so fit.”

“Oi,” Dan warns her, as though he has any actual claim on Phil whatsoever. 

She shakes her head good naturedly. “Don’t worry, alright? I see how happy you two are. I couldn’t be bitter if I tried, really.”

“Yeah,” he looks at her in confusion. “You keep saying that, but we’ve hardly stood next to each other yet tonight. I think you’re just way too excited to be meeting your first gay couple.”

“Oh, shut up,” she tells him. “It’s not that. He’s been talking about you with Cindy all night, you should just hear some of the things he’s saying. He’s very sweet, but you know that already, I’m sure.”

She nods over at the table across the room, where Cindy and Phil still seem to be deep in conversation, and he follows her gaze. _They could be talking about literally anything,_ he thinks. His doubt must be palpable somehow, though, because she grabs his hand. 

“You really don’t believe me?” She gives him a challenging look and then starts tugging him across the room. He follows her, because why not, until they’re about one table away and he hears something that makes him stop dead in his tracks.

Cindy’s voice.

“How did you know you loved him?”

He doesn’t think twice before dropping to the ground and pulling Katarina down with him.

* * *

It comes to him far more easily than it should. 

“I think I kind of always knew,” he says, before he can give it any real thought whatsoever.

Cindy smiles again. “Yeah? I guess that’s how the best love stories usually start.”

He's not sure if he should be alarmed by how much he genuinely means it. Not that it's any news to him, but saying it out loud, for real, to someone, feels strange. In a scary, good way. It's a weight off his chest.

“We just had so much in common." He continues. "We got on so well, better than I’ve ever gotten on with anyone. Even my brother. It clicked, I think, like instantly. And he was just so _cute.”_

She chuckles fondly at him. “Was?”

He can feel the adrenaline pumping through him now, thinking about it. Thinking about Dan. He doesn't know why or how, but the floodgates have been opened now and he really, really doesn't want to stop.

“Still is,” he breathes, slightly in awe of the intensity of his emotions. His face feels warm and his throat feels tight and all he can do, it seems, is keep talking. “Obviously. It’s just that when we first started chatting, I really couldn’t believe someone like him wanted to be friends with someone like me. It was weird.”

She nods, silently telling him to go on, and he sighs. 

“It took me a while to understand it, I think. I’d been waiting to feel this way for like, my entire life. I tried so hard to feel it with girls when I was younger, and then there were some guys in uni but it was hardly any better. I was kinda starting to think that maybe love was just super overrated and I’d hyped it up so much in my head that I’d never be actually satisfied.”

“That must have been hard,” Cindy chimes in, quietly. “When you were younger.”

“I guess,” Phil agrees.

It was hard, in a way. He'd felt sad back then. Sad and wrong and lonely. He hasn't thought about it for quite a while.

He bites his lip thoughtfully for a moment before breathing in deeply and continuing.

“I mean, it didn’t feel that hard at the time. But then I met Dan and I realized what it was actually supposed to be like and I just…” he trails off for a moment before jumping back in, shaking his head with a breathy laugh. “I just thought, like, _god, how did I ever stand being with anyone else? How did I handle not knowing him for my entire life?_ You know?”

She smiles sadly. “I think I know what you mean,” she whispers. He hands her a cloth napkin when he thinks he sees her eyes looking a bit wet, but she only takes it and lays it in her lap. “It’s a wonderful feeling. I imagine it’s even more wonderful when it lasts.”

He’s kind of glad that Katarina comes up to them then, because he can’t think of anything comforting to say. Glad, at least, until she addresses him. 

“I think you might wanna go talk to Dan, Phil,” she says hesitantly. Her brows are furrowed. “He seems like he might be upset about something?”

Phil frowns. “Upset?”

She nods, then shrugs. “I don’t know. We were just over there, listening to you guys talk.” 

His heart plunges all the way down in his chest, but she doesn’t seem to notice. “Anyway, I thought it was sweet, but then he just kinda ran out without saying anything.”

Phil finds himself outside what feels like just a microsecond later, shivering as he stands in a snowdrift on the dark, quiet sidewalk. He can still hear the party going on inside, muted but seemingly as festive as before. He can’t see too much, though, besides the snowflakes illuminated as they drift down through the street lamps. Then he hears a sniff and a small, shaky breath and he doesn’t even have to look before he speaks. It’s a sound he knows by heart. 

“Dan?”

* * *

Phil’s voice isn’t a relief to hear at all, for once. It’s a strange feeling, hearing Phil say his name and feeling only bad nerves. He draws in another breath when Phil turns around. He can’t see him well, but he doesn’t really need to. 

Actually, he doesn’t know what he needs. Something to slow his racing heart. Something to make his knees feel less weak. Something to mute the sound of Phil’s voice, playing over and over and over in his head.

_Clicked. Instantly._

_So cute. Still is._

_Waited to feel this way. Then I met Dan._

_Always knew._

_Always knew, always knew, always knew._

“It was, uh,” He breathes in more deeply this time and pushes his hair back from his forehead. He’s not wearing a coat, or really anything to keep him decently warm, but he still feels like he’s overheating. “It was getting kinda hot in there.”

He can make Phil out a little better when he takes another step forward. He’s not wearing a coat, either. And he looks worried.

“You heard me talking to Cindy,” Phil states. A bit dumbly, because he doesn’t follow it up with anything, just stands there looking curiously at Dan.

Dan clears his throat. “Yeah,” he replies, using every ounce of willpower he’s got to keep his voice steady. “You were doing great. Really selling the whole boyfriend thing. It was sweet. ‘Always knew,’ was a bit cheesy but props to you anyway.”

It hurts to say. Fuck. It really, physically hurts, the lying. The pretending. It wouldn't feel so bad, if he didn't want it so much.

Phil frowns and steps closer again. “Yeah,” he whispers. It’s then that Dan realizes that Phil’s eyes are glistening. “Should’ve said something more convincing.”

Well, that’s a shot to the heart as much as anything. He looks into Phil’s eyes and wishes so badly to be somewhere else. 

“I’m sorry for making you do this,” Dan says. This time, he can’t stop his voice from cracking. “It was stupid.”

“I had a nice time, actually,” Phil says. 

At least one of them did. But then Phil keeps talking. 

“I guess I should’ve had my story down better, though. ‘Always knew,’ that’s a bit sappy.”

Dan can feel Phil’s eyes boring into him while he stares down at his own feet. He wants Phil to walk away. If he can’t make himself disappear, why can’t Phil just walk away?

“Or I guess I should’ve kissed you six years ago and saved us both the trouble.”

He has to look up, then. Has to look up and see Phil stood right in front of him now, has to face the strange deja-vu of standing in a Manchester snowstorm and realizing how painfully in love he is. 

It's the same boy he's staring at. Same best friend. Same black hair and blue eyes and beaky nose and appalling lack of coordination. Same lame sense of humor and overwhelming sense of compassion. He's older now. More of a man. Knows Dan even better now. Perhaps even better than Dan knows himself. It's all so different now, and yet... it's still so the same. The thought of makes him a little bit dizzy.

Phil’s lips press against his before he can say anything. It’s cold and dry and really not at all what Dan had imagined it to feel like, until he feels Phil’s warm breath ghost over his cheek when he pulls back. Until he feels Phil’s hands resting on his waist, until he can sense how fast Phil’s heart is beating. Just as fast as his own.

“Christmas Eve that first year, when you went home,” Phil says quietly. “I had a feeling about you before then. But it hurt so much to see you leave that time. That's when I knew I loved you. When I realized I never wanted to see you leave again.”

Dan shakes his head. “I don’t…” he says shakily. He wants to reach out and hold Phil back, but his mind and his heart are both going about a hundred miles an hour and as of now, the only thing he can make himself do is stay standing. “You never… and I didn’t…”

“You were scared,” Phil whispers. “I was scared, we were stupid.”

At some point, Dan realizes, they’d backed up so that he’s now pressed up against one of the street lamps. They’re decorated nicely, wrapped in garlands and adorned with wreaths and mistletoe, alternating between every other light. He looks at the lamp beside him and sees its wreath sway gently in the snowy breeze. He’s under the mistletoe, then. 

“I don’t wanna be stupid anymore,” Phil says, his voice barely even there anymore. Even in the dark, Dan feels like he’s drowning in the depth of Phil’s gaze. 

He manages, somehow, to lift his arms and drape them around Phil’s shoulders. He’s warm and steady and solid, even if everything else looks and feels like a dream.

Phil takes a deep, steadying breath. “Do you?” He asks softly. “Wanna keep being stupid? Or should we try doing something right, for once?”

Dan doesn’t say anything in return. He does, however, tug Phil into another kiss, soft and terrified at first, then heavy and desperate, then sweet and breathless when they finally break apart with tears streaming down both their cheeks.

And he’s pretty sure that Phil gets the message, loud and clear.

**Author's Note:**

> happy holidays everyone!


End file.
